


could have saved her

by locrianrose



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locrianrose/pseuds/locrianrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble set in a soulmate AU based off a tumblr request. </p><p>South is pretty sure that she would have been able to save Connie, but she wasn't there--wasn't able to help.<br/>She really isn't sure how to feel about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. present

South is pretty sure that if she’d been there in that room when Tex and Carolina went after Connie, she would have lived.

She’s glad that she wasn’t. Serves Connie—no, she isn’t even going to think of her like that now—CT right for betraying them and turning against the project. Carolina won’t even talk about what CT said, and the records of her debriefing are classified. The thought of Tex telling what had happened was completely laughable, and South sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her.

Pulling her helmet off, South stared in the mirror in the locker room, trying to ignore the dark circles under her eyes. She needed to redye the ends of her hair—not that she had anyone to help her with CT gone. She looked exhausted, especially in the garish light of the leaderboard overhead.

She needed to get away from that.

North would be more than willing to talk about what had happened. South already knew the exact course that such a discussion would take, from North chastising her again about the situation to the eventual comfort that he’d give. He’d known how she felt about CT—maybe even longer than she had, and the one thing that he’d done right was actually not blabbing about it to anyone but York.

So talking to North was out of the question for now—besides, with Theta serving as his everything now, it wasn’t like he’d even have the time to talk about this other than to chastise her.

Wash, maybe? He’d been close to Connie, South knew that. Maybe he’d be willing to mope with her for a little while.

“Hey South.”

“York.” South glared at him as he entered the room, moving to go shove her helmet in her locker.

“How’re you holding up?”

South turned to face York, slamming her locker loudly.

“York, I’m  fine. Why the hell are you even asking? Shouldn’t you be off schmoozing up to Carolina?”

York sighed loudly, then rolled his eyes as he pulled off his helmet.

“South, I was just going to tell you that I’m sorry about what happened?”

“Why, York, why would you care? Cause the last time that I checked, you didn’t care about much other than Carolina, and she really doesn’t really care that she just fucking helped to kill a teammate.”

“You know it isn’t like that.” York said reprovingly. “South, I just thought that you’d know that I understand more than they would. I didn’t tell North. You should know that.”

“And why the fuck wouldn’t you tell him that?”

“I understood.”

“Please, don’t think that you can shove that in my face now, York.” South snapped back at him, brushing past and irritably moving out of the locker room. “It’s not the same, and you damn well know that.”

He didn’t follow her, and she was glad. No matter how he thought they were the same, ever thought that he would understand what she’d had with the other woman, he couldn’t. He and Carolina were nothing like they’d been—they didn’t have to face the risk that she had with CT. Carolina was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong—at least she had been, before Tex--she could do things that the rest of them couldn't.

South didn’t like to think of what would have happened to her or CT if they’d been found out.

It didn’t seem like she’d have to worry about it anymore. Their secret was dead, and as much as South tried to convince herself that she was glad, somehow she couldn’t quite muster the energy to feel that way.  Still. If she’d been there, the wound wouldn’t have been fatal, and part of her didn’t know if that would have been a good thing or not. 


	2. past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An event in the past. Relates to how York knew what he did.

“South. Come on, we need to get out of here now.” York’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp, and South let out a quick laugh and discharged another bullet from her gun, turning to him as the last of their enemies fell.

 “Okay. Fine, York. We can go now that we can actually run without getting shot.”

  He didn’t respond to that, and South took it as an opportunity to continue forward without any reprimant, moving swiftly towards the pelican that should be waiting for them, Connie already aboard.

 Unfortunately, as the two rounded the corner, the pelican was glaringly absent. A chill ran down South’s spine as she saw that where the ship should have been waiting nothing was to be seen, enemy troops firing on a figure crouched behind pile of debris from a collapsed wall.

 “Shit—Connie!” South yelled, charging forward without a thought for what York was saying on the coms, trying to contact Four-Seven-Niner.

 South plowed into the soldiers, firing as she did, kicking them aside. York was at her side now, and she was glad now that he’d been sent on the mission with them. An enemy bullet grazed her armor and she stumbled back for a fraction of a moment, crashing into and shoving an enemy to the ground, a rapid punch to his throat keeping him down..

 “South.” York’s voice was determined now, and she instantly registered the grenade in his hand as he spoke.

 “What, York?”

 “I’ll cover you. Get Connie out of there. I’ll follow.”

 “Got it.” South barked back, charging forward and plowing through, fists flying. If York said that he had her back, then she’d believe that. Focusing on reaching Connie, she let York pick off the soldiers who tried to attack her from behind. Fear began to fill her as she moved closer to Connie, worry about just why and how York knew that Connie needed to be helped out of this situation. What’d happened? Had she managed to contact York? Why hadn’t she just called South over the radio?

 As she finally dove for cover next to Connie she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw the way that the other was sitting, one arm pressed desperately over the bloody mess that was her stomach, the other arm struggling to hold up her pistol and aim and fire.

 “Shit, shit, shit.” South cussed to herself as she grabbed her biofoam, moving to Connie to inject it into Connie’s stomach without giving her a chance to respond or argue. The other let her pistol drop as South injected it, twitching slightly.

 “C’mon, Connie. York’s gonna blow this shit once we get you out.”

 Connie didn’t reply, her helmet moving in what South chose to view as a nod.

 South readied her weapon again, shooting off a few bullets at the closest enemies before hauling Connie to her feet, moving back and away. There would be civilians nearby, and hopefully somewhere that they could lose themselves till extraction came. True to his word, York covered their retreat. He’d better make it out of there—South didn’t like to think of how Carolina would bitch if York didn’t make it out in one piece and South did.

 Connie still had her hand pressed over her stomach, leaving South to do the most of the walking, glancing back to fire shots as was necessary.

 “Are you clear?” York’s voice buzzed over the coms.

 “Pretty damn much.” South replied quickly, firing off a shot. “What are you—“

 The area behind her exploded, knocking her and Connie forward. South was stunned for a moment, stumbling back to her feet before looking for Connie. The other freelancer was leaning heavily on a crumbled wall, her helmet at her feet.

 “Shit—Connie, come on.” South grabbed the other’s arm, tugging her along. Screw the helmet—they needed to get out of here now. Even if York didn't make it out South would still be able to score some points with the Director for getting Connie out and salvaging what she could—and honestly, if it was a choice between Connie and York, South’d be able to make it in a heartbeat. She wasn’t leaving Connie behind.

 "South. Transmitting coordinates for rendezvous."

 "On it." So York was fine, and he'd made it out in the distraction as well.

 "South–" Connie mumbled weakly, grasping for the other's arm.

 "C'mon, Connie. You still have the info?"

 "I-I got it."

 South fished around for another question to ask to keep her talking. So long as Connie could reply and was conscious, she'd know that things weren't too serious and that the biofoam was doing its job.

 "How much do you wanna bet that Carolina's gonna flip her shit about this?"

 "I don't–" Connie broke off, a hacking cough shaking her body. South caught a glimpse of the blood in the other's mouth, and for a moment she felt herself freeze, wanting to pause and wipe the blood away. Connie wouldn’t—no, she couldn’t die here—they'd had something, and for a moment South felt her stomach flop as she realized that maybe if she'd left a little sooner when York had wanted to go then they'd have been there in time to help Connie, and then she wouldn't be dragging the other along with her as she was now.

 "York. We can't make it to your coordinates." South stated, making a split second decision. "Meet us."

 "South, I don't think you get it. I can't just–" South switched off her com, ignoring whatever York had been going to say. She pulled Connie into an alleyway between two buildings, tugging her into a space obscured by a large dumpster.

 South tore off her gloves, pushing Connie's hand away from the holes in her armor and flesh, staring for only a moment before reapplying biofoam, striving to clean it the best that she could.

 "Connie. C'mon." South glared down to meet the other’s glazed eyes, moving a hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. “Connie. Hang on. Just keep talking to me. York is coming.”

 “South—“ Connie said her name quietly, forcing the word out. “I need— _help.”_

“Connie, I’m fucking trying!” South replied, moving slightly to tensely glance out of the alleyway. “Let me try to get Four-Seven-Niner.”

 “No.” A hand weakly grabbed at South. It made her sick to her stomach to feel just how weak Connie’ s grip was. This wasn’t right, and this wasn’t fair. Connie was supposed to be better than this—sure, she was lower ranked than South, but that didn’t mean that she should’ve been gutted like this.

 “York, where the hell are you?” South hissed into her radio again. “We need you!”

 “South.”

 “What?” She glared down at Connie, still distractedly listening for a reply from York.

 Connie feebly reached up to pull South towards her, but South only brushed her away, irritated.

 “Connie, stay still. I’m not going back to explain why you died because you couldn’t stop flailing around.” Her response was brusque, but Connie was still determined, feebly latching on.

 “South.” The other’s voice was strained, and South had to lean closer to discern her words. “Listen. You can fix this—“

 “Connie, all that stuff is complete bullshit.” South knew what she meant, but that didn’t meant that she’d believe any of what she would be implying. Sure, they all joked about the possibility and all of them knew about York and Carolina, but like—this was her. And Connie! It wasn’t happening, wouldn’t be happening, and definitely couldn’t ever happen. “I can’t waste my time with that—York will be here soon, and I’ll get you to Niner. Stop worrying.”

 “South.” Connie sounded like she was trying to raise her voice, but South just flinched slightly.

 “I can’t do that.” An edge of fear crept into her voice. “I’m not going to try.”

 Connie didn’t say anything to that, tightly closing her eyes. Her breathing was shallow, and South forced herself to focus on her again. She needed to keep her conscious, and wipe the blood away and get this done. As the smaller woman let out another pained gasp South finally snapped, swearing irritably.

 “Fine. I’ll try it—I’m just saying now, this probably won’t work.” Connie didn’t reply, and South carefully nudged her in the shoulder. “I need you to focus—it’s not like I ever looked this bullshit up.”

 Connie didn’t respond. South swiftly moved her hand to her cheek, attempting to focus and do something that she seriously doubted could do. So maybe she had went through a phase a few years back when she’d actually cared about all that soul-mate bullshit—all it was used for these days was combat situations, and before Connie there’d never been anyone that she could have hoped that it would have been able to help.

 And she did want to help the other—Connie was someone who understood her, who genuinely cared and seemed to be willing to take the time to get to know her, someone who didn’t see her as the lesser twin.

 Someone that she thought that she might love.

 Who might die if she couldn’t do this.

 Against her better judgement, South focused completely on Connie, staring at the way the other’s hair was sticking to her head from sweat and the tear that’d slipped down her cheek, and in that moment something shifted, her protectiveness for the other manifesting as a burning in her chest.

 A wave of dizziness hit her and her hand dropped from Connie’s cheek. South slid back against the wall, tensely activating her radio again.

 “York. Come on, I need you here. Connie does. Transmitting map point.”

 “I’ve got a car. I’m coming, but I need you to be ready—you know this is gonna go in my report.”

 “Yeah, whatever. Just hurry.” South looked back to Connie again, trying to discern what blood was still coming from the wounds—if they really were better, or if she’d even done anything.

 “Connie.” South hefted the other up into a sitting position. “Talk to me.”

 “I can walk.” The other’s eyes were still closed, voice just as faint as before, but she was talking and South would take that over the terrifying silence of a moment before.

 “Did…I do anything?” South said in a moment of uncharacteristic uncertainty, brushing Connie’s hair out of her eyes with a careful hand.

 “Think so.” That was all Connie said, but South would take it for now and try not to think about what that meant till later—that she’d been able to help her, that she’d done something she’d never thought that she could.

 “C’mon. York is coming.” South stood, debating for a moment before heaving Connie to her feet, lifting most of her weight. Connie didn’t even bother to try to stand alone, leaning heavily on South—something that any other time, she would have been able to appreciate.

 The walk to the edge of the alleyway was long, but York was there and that was what mattered and Connie would survive if she really was better—what couldn’t the Doctors back on the ship do?

 It was going to be okay. They would do this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super self indulgent. I always see all these little soul-mate au's with m/m ships, so I thought why not write one for my favorite ladies?

**Author's Note:**

> The request was for South/CT in a soulmate AU where Soulmates can heal each other from greater injuries than they could normally do so.


End file.
